


We Own The Night

by CrossedMoon



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/F, Fake AH Crew, hey guys say hi to my oc's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 09:10:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16678741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossedMoon/pseuds/CrossedMoon
Summary: Iridescence Oliver has spent four years as a lowly pickpocket, but when you steal a watch from the Golden Boy himself, your life takes a turn.





	1. The Mistake

Irie smoothed down the non-existent wrinkles at the front of her dress. It was a simple piece, forest green, ending just above the knees, It wasn't the flashy clothing she usually wore on jobs, but her intention wasn't to stand out.

She wanted to blend in with the disgustingly rich. Irie had managed to snag an invitation to some rich person's birthday bash, and the job she was doing was simple. Get in, snag some bracelets and rings, maybe a necklace or two, and take them to some sleazy pawn shop owner who was too busy staring at her cleavage to notice he was being overcharged.

She was positioned at a table in the corner, sipping some complimentary champagne, surveying her targets. Her eyes landed on one woman, drowning in jewels. She got out of her corner, floating her way toward the woman.

She bumped into another woman, slipping two rings and a bracelet from her. Irie picked up a clutch someone had thrown in a drunken fit, and snagged a broken pearl necklace. When Irie got halfway to her target, the focus of the room shifted.

Everyone turned toward the entrance, so Irie followed their gaze. Standing in the entrance of the room, paused to bask in the astonishment of the crowd, was the Golden Boy himself. Dressed to the nines, even for his standards. Dripping and gold and glitter, signature sunglasses perched on top of his head.

Irie was about to turn back toward her target when something caught her eye. The watch on Golden Boy's wrist, she had seen the price tag on one of those before, the money off of that one watch could pay her rent for 6 months.

The very small logical part of her brain told her that stealing from one of the Fakes was a very bad idea, but she had to have that watch. She changed her track immediately. She pulled a notepad and pen out of her purse, frizzed up her hair, and switched her lipstick to a softer pink.

Then, she marched right over to the man and stuck her hand out. "Katherine Plumber, reporter for Los Santos Meteor, mind if I ask you a couple questions?"

Golden Boy gave her what she had heard was his signature smirk. Irie could see why people melted under his gaze. He accepted her handshake and she felt the clasp. Easy to get off, this would be a simple job. "Katherine Plumber, a journalist?" His voice was smooth, low, his accent just noticeable enough to be sexy.

"Self-fulfilling prophecy, I know. Mom had no idea, I was introduced to the musical by some friends in college. I'm doing a piece of the lives of the extravagantly wealthy, what would you like to be credited as?"

"Anonymous." of course.

"Ok, now, how much money would you say your household makes in a year?" He rattled off some number, definitely low-balling his actual income. 

"I actually have a question for you." He shot back. Just in time, Irie was desperately trying to think of a question. She hadn't gotten that far while thinking about the reporter con.

"Which is?"

"Are you new around here?" The real answer was no, she had lived there for four years. But, if she was going to continue playing ignorant, there was no way someone could live in Los Santos for four years and not know who the fakes were.

"Yes sir! Just passed two months."

"Really? Two months in the city and you're already a reporter?"

"I'm good at getting people to talk."

"Oh, really? Maybe I could help you, after all," he leaned in so close, Irie held her breath, "I can tell when someone is lying," he whispered into Irie's face.

Golden Boy made his exit then, leaving Irie in the dust She closed her eyes, silently cursing herself. She had wasted all that time on a stupid watch, and she hadn't even gotten it.

When she opened her eyes, something sparkled in her peripheral. She glanced down and saw the cursed watch sitting on the table in front of her, unclasped. An offering.

Irie grabbed the watch and scurried out of the mansion before Golden Boy realized he had made a mistake. She was desperate to get home and sleep off the anxiety, knowing she could cash in her earnings the next day.

\--------------------------------------------------

A sudden brightness jolted Irie to consciousness. Her twin brother was standing in front of the window in her room, the source of the brightness.

She groaned and sat up. "Griff, what do you want?"

"Young lady, you did not get home till 2 am last night, where were you?"

"First of all, I'm 13 minutes older than you, don't 'young lady' me. Second of all, you're not my dad, get off my back. Third, I got invited to some college party, went there to blow off some steam." This was the routine in the Oliver household. The twins bicker, Griffin deflates, he goes off to be domestic with his partner, Irie does whatever.

"Don't sass me, Iridescence."

"Oh, now we're going full name on me, are we? I don't need you micromanaging my life, I can handle myself."

Right on cue, Griffin's stern parent pose fell. "I know, it's just you get so reckless sometimes, and I worry for you. I'm allowed to be worried, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't think my permission is going to change anything. You're still gonna worry."

"Got me there. Hey, this came for you in the mail." He handed her an envelope, and walked out of the room.

Irie turned over the envelope. No return address. She opened the flap, careful not to rip it. There was a single notecard sitting there. She pulled it out and read. There was an address, and under it, it said "Come at 2 pm. Wear interview clothes. Oh, and bring the watch, I like your style." The signature was a single G.

She turned over and checked her phone for the time, 1:30. She was going to be late. She grabbed a simple dress and shrugged a blazer over it. Attempting to put on shoes at the same time, she hopped out of her room. She grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl in the kitchen and rushed out of the apartment, calling an Uber and patting her pocket to make sure she had the watch.

When she got in the Uber, she finger combed her hair out and pulled it into a braid. She saw that it needed to be re-bleached, her roots were getting darker. When she finished the braid, she sat back and watched the city fly by, wondering where this opportunity would take her.


	2. The Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irie follows the instructions on the letter she received. She gets a job opportunity and meets an intriguing character.

At 1:58, Irie arrived at the address. It was an apartment, decent-sized, but not reflective of the money the Fakes were earning. Probably a safe house. When the clock struck 2, she knocked on the door. There was rustling and muffled shouts, then the door opened. Standing in front of Irie was the Kingpin himself, and the girl was immediately filled with regret.

She was out of her element. Crews had never been her thing. She had always operated alone, it was easier. She could do what she wanted when she wanted, and didn't have to worry about betrayal. Then, Kingpin smiled and offered his hand in a handshake. Irie took it, tentatively, and stepped into the apartment. There was no going back now. The apartment was nice, if sparsely furnished.. Kingpin led Irie into the kitchen. What looked like the entire crew was positioned around a rickety table.

Mogar and Rimmy Tim were conspiring, leaned in and whispering to each other. Golden Boy was sitting with his feet propped up on the table, typing on his phone. Their pilot, Irie didn't know his name, was assembling some sort of puzzle. And the Vagabond, in all his masked glory, was cleaning under his fingernails with a knife, some sort of intimidation tactic.

"Jack!" Kingpin exclaimed, causing the pilot to jump. So he did have a name.

"Sorry." He turned to Irie and gestured toward the chair in front of him. Irie sat down, wary. The atmosphere was threatening, like Irie had to be careful to say the right thing. But she had navigated stickier situations before, she could handle this. She relaxed, these people didn't scare her.

Jack leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "This isn't common procedure, we usually don't hire people off the street, but you did receive a glowing recommendation from one of our own."

"All I'm saying is," Golden Boy interrupted. His voice was considerably less careful and precise than at the party, higher and squeakier, "if she can con me, she can con anyone. She'd be a valuable asset to the crew."

"Fine, fine, we'll give it a shot," Jack said, "Let's see, could you give us a rundown of your skills?"

"I work mostly in deception and distraction. I can manipulate people, I have a background in Psychology, and can read people like a book, I'm also adept at handing knives.:

"You're quite sure of yourself." Mogar spoke up.

"I have to be, humbleness isn't going to help me in this city."

"You say you know your way around knives?" Kingpin asked. Irie nodded and a knife appeared in front of her, sticking up in the wood. She glanced back, Vagabond's knife wasn't in his hand anymore. She stood up, grabbing the knife from the table, and prepared to throw. She aimed for a crack in between two cabinets and made her throw. The knife stuck perfectly.

"How do we know you aren't manipulating us now?" Rimmy Tim asked. Irie had been dreading this question. There was no good answer. Navigating the world while always trying to be in charge of the conversation was hard, getting people to trust you when they knew you did that was even harder.

"You don't." She said simply. "It may take a long time to gain trust with you, but I'm willing to wait." The room was silent, they were probably considering her statement. Then, it was interrupted by the sound of a slamming door.

A woman walked into the room, humming, and Irie was immediately intrigued. She looked like a wildfire, with her hair and the dress she was wearing, and she went about her business as if the most fearsome crew in Los Santos wasn't in the room. She grabbed some food out of the cabinet and hopped up on the counter, chewing.

"Well," she said, "don't let me stop you, carry on."

The silence continued until Mogar spoke up. "You killed our vibe, asshole."

"Well fine then, I'll continue the interview." The woman quipped back. She focused on Irie. "If you had to choose one person, out of all the people on this planet, who's death would absolutely destroy you, would shatter you to pieces?"

Irie sat back, shocked. She hadn't expected such a personal question. Her instincts were yelling at her to lie, to say that no one affected that much, make her seem less weak, but something about that woman made her want to tell the truth. "My brother. He's the most important person in the world to me. If he were to get hurt, I would not hesitate to seek out the person who hurt him and make them suffer."

The woman leaned back, looking satisfied. "Everyone needs to have that person, anyway," She looked around, "I don't see what the problem is. We need to expand, and she seems like the perfect candidate."

"You weren't even here for most of the interview." Mogar said.

"You think I don't have a camera in my apartment? I listened to y'all on the way home."

"you have a camera here?" asked Rimmy Tim. "Do you realize how easy those are to hack?"

"Relax, I got this coder to set it up. They did some hacker shit and made it impenetrable."

Irie watched with amusement. This didn't feel like genuine animosity, just bickering among friends. She focused on the woman. Something about her kept Irie's attention. Then, the woman tossed her head back in laughter, and she realized what was happening. It was a crush.

Geoff stood, silencing the three bickerers. He turned to Irie and she remembered why she was here in the first place. "We will give you a chance. Be at the boat docks at midnight tonight. You'll be running a negotation with a crew that's been giving us trouble. You will get more details when you arrive." Irie nodded and the crew dispersed until it was just Irie and the woman in the kitchen.

She hopped off the counter and walked over to Irie. "Hey, sorry he's being so hard on you. He usually doesn't have such a stick up his ass, don't know why." Irie knew why. It's hard to trust someone when their primary talent is conning people.

"Thanks, I, uh, I gotta go. Have a job offer to prepare for." Irie faked some cheer in her voice. She was right about having to earn their trust, but she really wanted to. Getting in with the Fakes, she could benefit greatly, maybe get her family out of that apartment that was too small for three people.

Irie called another Uber to get back home. She didn't know what she was expecting from that event, but it certainly wasn't a job opportunity and a new crush.


End file.
